


Touched

by Nevospitanniy



Category: Big Wolf on Campus
Genre: 4+1, Bullying, Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Or at least I definitely do, Why do we hurt the ones we love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-03
Updated: 2017-04-03
Packaged: 2018-10-14 07:01:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10531320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nevospitanniy/pseuds/Nevospitanniy
Summary: I'll never find someone quite as touched as you





	

**Author's Note:**

> This fandom will not die on me, not yet.
> 
> Shoutout to VAST for the title.

1/

His cheekbone throbbed, making Merton acutely aware of how fast his heart was beating.

_Calm down, take a deep breath._

He knew he got off easy this time - the brothers weren't particularly interested in harassing him. Who knows, maybe they had a big lunch. He didn't even provoke them, was just minding his own business, as usual, staying out of their way, preserving what's left of his dignity; he hoped today would be the day to be left alone until one of them - which one was quite hard to gauge, because they spent a lot of time purposefully making themselves hard to differentiate - lunged in his direction, two large palms connecting with Merton's back, and he dove face first into cold metal of the locker, knees buckling. His fist automatically uncurled to stop himself from falling, dropping the backpack with a dull thud. Merton clawed for his padlock, but grabbed thin air, crashing onto the floor in a shameful heap.

"Watch your face, faggot!" Satisfied roar of laughter just added insult to injury.

With a little sarcastic giggle, Merton stood up, dusting off his pants, semi-grateful that hallway was mostly empty and only about 50 people saw his humiliation.

"Thanks for the advice, I'll be sure to pass it along", he murmured, opening his locker to look in a tiny mirror inside. Of course, now his right cheek was red and blotchy, with a stripe of darker dots right on the bone. It would turn a lovely shade of bluish-burgundy in, let's say, 3 hours. He hated stealing his sister's foundation to cover face bruises: not only it was weird, the shade was always too dark. At this point he should just buy one for himself.

His pondering was interrupted by a warm hand on the shoulder; Merton involuntarily flinched, relaxing as part of Tommy's jaw appeared in his mirror.

"Man, what's on your face?" Hand moved to his cheek, ghost of a touch on tender skin. Merton jerked away, grabbing his backpack from under Tommy's feet. He watched intently, brow furrowed.

"It's called a bruise, my hairy friend. Also known as ecchymosis and/or hematoma." He started walking in the direction of the class, Tommy following.

"No, how did this happen?"

"Well, when body is struck, but skin isn't broken, muscle and tissue underneath are negligibly damaged, causing a ruptured blood vessel-" A hand grabbing upper arm halted his stride with enough force to make his shoulder pop.

"You know what I mean. Who hit you?"

Merton pointed to a row of metal to their side. "If you wanna get real technical, I hit myself. By closing our distance", he hit his open palm with a fist, "verrry fast."

"Stop this bullshit, Merton", Tommy's grasp tightened, nails becoming longer. Wolfing out over him in school after 2nd period would be so not a good idea.

"T'n'T. At least try to look surprised." Snatching the arm back, he put his hands in pockets, eyes not meeting Tommy's. Yeah, it happened a lot. But also yeah, it still sucked. And he still felt embarrassed. 

"Class is gonna start, let's go."

Tommy disapprovingly pursed his lips, but willed his legs to move.

 

2/

Mother told him to never plug the nose and just let the blood drip till it stops on its own. Better this way, she explained, no clots and no blood in the mouth. Merton's overall health was on the back of his mind, to be honest, as he watched red drops land in the sink, little clouds of pink exploding around them. He bend down, propping elbow on the beat up porcelain, his chin rested in a palm; he was already painfully bored with the entire process.

Drip, drip.

Drip.

Door squeaked open, Merton gingerly turned to spot whoever came in with peripheral vision. He recognized that sigh and squeezed his eyes shut.

"Don't even say anything," he warned nasally, voice echoing in the emptiness of the bathroom. "I don't wanna hear it."

Tommy's voice was quiet but pointed. "That's just too fucking bad. Is your nose broken? You need to go to the nurse."

"And miss all the fun in school? Never," he tried to laugh, but sound came out hollow and insincere even to his human ears; Tommy picked up on the bluff instantly. He roughly tore a paper towel from a dispenser on the wall, crumpling it and pressing to Merton's face.

Drip.

He narrowed his eyes at Tommy, but accepted the paper.

"You shouldn't stick stuff up your nose, blood is just supposed to coagulate, that way you don't swallow it and make yourself sick." There were brown stripes under his nails.

"You shouldn't do a lot of stuff. Like get beaten up all the time and not let me help", Tommy's hiss was almost unintelligible because of all the anger in his voice.

"Buddy, you can't babysit me just to make sure I don't get a paper cut, now can you? What's next - you and Lori being my protective detail? Hiring a bodyguard? Wearing a suit of snazzy medieval armor?" Humor was his last (and only) line of defense and he hoped to God he didn't believe in that Tommy would shut up.

God held a grudge, obviously. That would explain some things.

"I'm going to kick their asses so hard they wouldn't be able to eat a bowl of soup. Seems more reasonable to go straight to the source, no?"

Sniffling, Merton tossed the rust-tinged towel in the trash, and wiped his nose on his thankfully black sleeve.

"No way, Tommy, this is just begging for trouble. And suspension! You're the captain of a football team, just- please consider the consequences before you do something mind-numbingly stupid, over me, no less." That last part was especially bitter. Tommy closed the distance between them in one step, finger pointing accusingly into Merton's face.

"Oh, you forfeited your right to tell me what to do. And here," he pushed another paper towel into his hands, "plug up. I could smell your blood from the hallway."

Merton took a shaky breath, feeling scratchy paper get heavy and wet under his nostrils.

 

3/

All things considered, satin bedding was an expensive but solid investment. That was what Merton thought, anyway. Stylish, gothic-looking both in maroon or classic black and it felt nice. Plus, sleek pillowcases were good for your hair and skin - an obvious benefit for someone who cared so much, saved time in the morning too. But now Merton would happily ignore all the great advancements of the textile industry because of how heavenly cool fabric felt on his bruised torso. He let out a small moan, tugging a previously stuck under his arms shirt off all the way. It put a strain on his tender shoulder, but when the entirety of his upper body connected with soft silkiness, the decision seemed like the best thing ever. Merton slowly turned, kicking a duvet up with his foot; now sandwiched between two sheets of refreshing polyester, he groaned with almost sexual pleasure. Everything beneath his neck steadily throbbed, couple of ribs particularly concerning, emanating sharp pain every time he breathed in or out.

He could hear the clamor of the house, Becky loudly voicing her opinion on something over the phone, TV playing in the living room, his parents no doubt watching some preachy televangelist who probably had three yachts in addition to his faith.

A headache was starting.

Someone's heavy footfall rustled outside, door opening to Tommy's wolf self standing in the doorway.

"It's really drafty in here," complained Merton from the bed, barely lifting his head to look at the visitor. Tommy walked in, pushing the door shut harder than necessary. You didn't need wolf-enhanced senses to know when Tommy Dawkins was pissed, and he was all that and then some.

"Your hair looks especially fluffy today, you trying to copy a special someone?" He joked, tugging at one spike on his head. Laughter felt coarse in his throat like a sheet of sandpaper. Come to think of it, what an unpleasant way to go, being asphyxiated by a foreign object lodged in your windpipe that was also scratched from being forced down. Makes a good movie death - note to self, put it in some script.

Tommy didn't find his quip particularly amusing, judging by his face. His usual frown was emphasized by bushy eyebrows, bringing it to a frankly terrifying result. He scented the air.

"I can tell when you're hurt, you know. And scared. You smell," he leaned in closer to the bed, "different. Like you, but not."

"You have a way with words, William Dawkinspear. Wanna read me some poetry?" Merton propped himself up on his elbows, sucking air through his teeth when the movement tugged at his bruised ribs; Tommy was at his side in a blink of an eye.

"Why didn't you just run? You always try to get out of trouble using anything you can possibly think of, where's that 'fighting spirit'", he put up sarcastic air quotes," when it comes to school? Why do you let this happen to you?"

Merton plopped back on the bed, tugging duvet up to his neck.

"Do I need a reason?" his whisper was barely above breathing sound. Tommy growled.

"So this _is_ deliberate? Are- are you punishing yourself? For what? Tell you parents, Merton! To be fair, I have no clue how the fuck they haven't seen it before, I mean, that cheek bruise a beacon for weeks even though you tried to paint over it. The whole school knows you're a punching bag."

"Gee, thanks, buddy, I always knew you cared, it just warms my heart."

Tommy huffed in annoyance.

"I'm sorry, okay, I didn't mean it to sound so harsh. Of course, I care. Why else would I be shedding all over your room right now?"

Wincing, Merton sat up in his bed fully, clammy hands clutching at the covers. His eyes darted to the left, hearing Becky shuffle outside.

"Freaker, dinner's ready. Get it fast, because I'm not leaving you any."

"She loves me so much," he smiled at Tommy, who started to unwolf, fur and claws retracting. "Would you mind throwing me a shirt from the chair?"

Tommy's once again human eyes focused on the bed, where Merton still sheepishly covered himself like a girl. He reached out, jerking the duvet off.

"Actually, I do mind." 

Merton yelped, palms coming up to cover his nipples.

"What are you doing? Give it back," he could feel his face getting warm, headache getting worse by the second. Tommy silently took in the galaxy-like bruising over his body, a big one on the small of his back, net of small ones on the ribs and what looked suspiciously like a boot print on the shoulder. His stare was incredibly unnerving; Merton looked away. 

"This one's shaped like a horse," he pointed to a blue blob on his side, making a poor attempt at a smile. Tommy looked seriously unimpressed.

"Okay, this looks bad, but it's really nothing-"

"I'm calling your parents", Tommy stood up, but with the most speed Merton could muster, he grabbed his wrist.

"Don't. Please don't."

Fear smelled sweet and cloying - like a fresh meadow, if it was behind a slaughterhouse. It overwhelmed at such a close distance - Tommy usually detected a hint of this scent when T'n'T walked past them, quite a strong one at the proverbial battlefield, but right now it was downright suffocating, assaulting his senses. Merton squeaked when Tommy started to wolf out again, letting go of his hand.

"Why are you so afraid, Merton? You've never been this scared before. And it sure as hell never made me do this," he sighed and waved at his form, paws instead of hands.

Words didn't come, Merton's mouth just opening and closing uselessly. He reached back for the covers, failing to say anything of substance.

"Just please don't bother."

"But-"

"I'm begging you here, Tommy, if you're my friend and know what's good for me, keep your trap shut. Oh heavens, look at the time, you should get home." He looked at his wristwatch with a feigned disappointment. Tommy didn't understand what was happening, but Merton's smell couldn't lie. He was terrified shitless, whatever the reason.

"Okay, I will go," he pointed at the door, blinking fast. Being tossed out like this hurt, especially when he was still in a wolf form, but Merton looked like he would start crying any minute now and that's something he would certainly like to do without any witnesses.

"I- you do know that I genuinely want to help? I hope you'll tell me what's going on."

Merton nodded, looking above his head somewhere.

"I will, Tommy. Now scram."

 

4/

Did you know that slings come in different colors? Merton, of course, went for plain black, so it wouldn't ruin his style too much; after all, black goes with everything. Especially with other black. Opening a locker with one hand though, that was quite cumbersome, and the odd shape of his backpack didn't help with stuffing books into it.

A familiar voice made him wince.

"Who broke your arm again, Dingle? We didn't get any new cheerleaders."

"Come on, go away, you have better things to do," Tommy drawled from behind.

Merton turned; Travis was disappointed.

"But I like fucking with him. It makes me happy."

"As a captain of your team, it makes _me_ happy when you're on the team, and not expelled for breaking a students arm."

"He came to school like this, Dawkins, but we can break another one if you want us to." Tim pointed to Merton cowering by his locker with a full intention of getting inside.

"What? No!" Tommy rubbed his face in frustration. "Go. Away."

Merton watched them leave, rolling his eyes and trying to look as unimpressed as possible. "Thanks, but no need. I wasn't in any real danger, I could totally take care of m-"

His no doubt amazing and well-composed rant was cut short by Tommy's _paw_ coming to rest on his waist. Merton could feel the tips of his claws gently pressing into his skin through the shirt in a mildly threatening way.

"Tommy, get a hold of yourself," he urged with quiet panic in his voice. "You're wolfing out."

"You don't say."

Tommy pressed on his waist to move, forcing him into a nearest utility closet. It was dusty and it smelled strange. A pink hair clip laid on the floor, no doubt forgotten after someone's makeout session.

"Who broke your arm?" Tommy showed no signs of reigning the wolf in. "And if you lie, I will know."

Merton blew a raspberry.

"I have brittle bones from calcium deficiency, it's my lactose intolerance. They break all the time."

"Yeah, especially if someone breaks them."

"You got me there," the nervous laugh sounded awkward in the four by four square feet room. They were standing so close Merton's breath moved Tommy's fur with every exhale, his injured arm caught uncomfortably between them.

"Merton. Tell me."

"That's a whole lot of nunya, pal", Merton didn't know where this defiance came from, especially when in front of a tall hairy man with razor-sharp claws and menacing canines. Who was now showing them off by growling in his face.

"Why are you acting so thick, I just want to help you", Tommy pressed him closer into a wall, hand in a sling now in some real pain.

"Did it occur to you that being on my ass about it doesn't feel like help?" He blurted out. "My father, okay? You happy?"

Tommy took a step back, Merton cradling his arm and gently rubbing it with a frown. That sweet smell was back; Tommy didn't know whether Merton was afraid of his father or him, and that thought made him anxious.

"No, I'm the opposite of happy. How long has this been going on?"

"A while," Merton put his free arm in his pocket, shrugging. "Don't tell me you didn't know my family aren't exactly Merton Dingle #1 fans."

"There is a big gap between not approving of your child's hobbies and hurting them," Tommy ran a paw down Merton's side, bruised spots feeling extra warm. He used one claw to gently lift the shirt, ignoring the protest, showing layers of blue and yellow and green; old under new. One between the dimples on his back bothered Tommy the most. He slid a finger over it, Merton buckling to get away from the sensation.

"What about this?"

"I think I'll be pissing blood for the rest of my life. Very gothic, now that I think about it." He let out a small nervous laugh that tapered off after a giggle or two. Tommy moved his hand up to the rib cage.

"And this one?" His fuzzy fingertip made small soothing circles over marred skin. Merton shivered.

"Ah- this one is healing alright, but still hurts to breathe a little." Werewolf leaned closer, sniffing. Palm moved up the shirt to a space between Merton's protruding shoulder blades. He was breathing faster and more ragged, his black shirt lifting in the front, bunching up on the inside of Tommy's elbow.

"This?"

"I, I don't remember. I don't know who-"

That was it. Tommy quickly turned Merton around, pressing his face gently but without chance of escaping into a rough drywall.

"Let go, stop manhandling me like this, you brute! I'll tell Lori on you."

"For once in your life, shut up."

Tommy jacked up his shirt in one swift move, Merton whimpered into his free hand. A tiny spot crowned each vertebrae, skin scuffed like he was dragged over something. Tommy's soft hand traced the edges of a really big bruise near the top, yellow on the sides, but still a deep purple in the center.

"Tommy, let me go, we have class, stop."

He gasped at the feeling of a hot wet tongue on his skin.

"What-"

"Dogs lick their wounds," Tommy breathed against his back, continuing to lick long stripes up his spine, tongue following each nub of bone. Merton felt dizzy, grabbing a shelf on the wall for stability, knuckles white.

"I like your smell much better now," laughter ticked his shoulder blade, warm puff of air grazing the skin.

"What smell?" Merton exhaled. 

"Lust," two paws slid in the front, pressing onto his chest, smashing their bodies together. All air got pushed out from Merton's lungs, skin burning under a red-hot touch. Tommy nuzzled the side of his cheek.

"I can lick your wounds any time."

Bell rang, neatly mirroring the ringing in Merton's ears.

 

5/

"Stay with me."

Merton groaned, pulling his shirt over his head, too lazy to deal with buttons.

"You may have told T'n'T to leave me alone, wolf-boy, but if I'm late again, my dad will have strong opinions about my availability after school for the next month."

Tommy laughed, voice low and velvety.

"I can deck him too. Stay."

Merton made a noncommittal noise and waved him off.

"Then I'll just go with you."

"Hah, yeah, me not being home they are used to. Me waking up with a very hairy man is a completely different set of rules."

Tommy got out of bed, unfazed by his nakedness, standing behind Merton, who was spiking his hair in a big mirror.

"I can protect you. I'll sleep in your hearse every night, if I have to, just to hear when you call me."

Merton's lopsided smile made Tommy's heart ache.

"Humanity has already invented the phone. We don't need to use our voices in a loud and grating manner anymore."

"I like when you use your voice in a loud and grating manner," a hand covered Merton's smaller one, bringing it down.

"Stay."

He stayed.


End file.
